An Education
by MarieKavanagh
Summary: When a fight breaks out following an incident of name-calling during a game of Exploding Snap gone wrong, eleven-year-old Sirius Black is forced to rethink everything he thinks he knows about blood status.


If there was one thing Sirius Black loved most in the world, it was winning. He revelled in the triumphant joy of knowing that he was better than someone at something. At anything. Whether it was racing his little brother to the bottom of the winding staircase at home, being the first of his classmates to master a new spell, or outsmarting his new friends in a game of Wizard Chess, Sirius had to be the winner.

That particular October evening was a wet and windy one in the highlands of Scotland that played host to Hogwarts castle. The violent gusts howled through the night sky, the icy droplets of rain clattering against the windows of the mighty fortress which sheltered it's inhabitants from the raging storm.

High up in Gryffindor Tower, where the might of the storm rang clearly through the warmly-lit common room, the students busied themselves with their usual post-dinner activities to block out the noise of the weather. Just over a month into the new school year, the elder students mostly gathered around the tables set up for schoolwork, getting a head-start on homework or some early revision for next year's big exams. But for the first-year students, still in the blissfully relaxed early days of their magical education, the evenings were for more laid-back activities; getting to know their new classmates, playing games, maybe some experimenting with their newly-learned spells, with mixed results.

Sirius Black, the first Gryffindor of the Black family, had been apprehensive about his Sorting at first. Though not exact over-eager at the thought of being a Slytherin, he had accepted it as more than likely to be his rather bemused to find himself to be such a rarity as the first non-Slytherin of his bloodline, he had been nervous to enter the unfamiliar territory of the red-and-gold world the Hat had decreed he belonged in, not that he dared let anyone see as much. Nevertheless he quickly found himself at home with his new dorm-mates, whom he was thankful to have met on the train beforehand. The prior introductions had made their first night together less awkward.

The enthusiastic clap on the back and "Well done, mate!" from James, the messy-haired boy with glasses, at having managed to avoid being placed into Slytherin, had been all Sirius had needed to squash any further negative feelings towards his unexpected Sorting. James's praise implied he had beaten some sort of challenge, succeeded in avoiding something, won a game. And Sirius Black did love winning.

This particularly stormy evening found the first year Gryffindors gathered around the roaring fire, enveloped in its warmth against the sounds of the harsh, wintery storm echoing through the tower common room. This was certainly the best spot of the Common Room, with it's thick, richly-embroidered hearth rug and deep red sofas one could easily sink into. However, with far more schoolwork to occupy their time, the elder students rarely got the chance to make use of it before it was overtaken by the gang of overexcited eleven-year-olds.

Having quickly finished their minuscule Transfiguration homework (a beginner's essay describing the possible uses and misuses of Transfiguration in everyday life), Sirius had pestered James for a game of chess, and was mildly irritated to be turned down in favour of an evening spent organising his vast chocolate card collection. An avid card collector, but valuing only the cards bearing Quidditch players, James was keen to sort out a pile of cards to trade among the other students in search of the few players missing from his collection.

Sirius had definitely found James the easiest of his new friends to get to know in the few weeks they had been at Hogwarts. Aside from emitting an enthusiastic energy that made everyone he chose to share it with feel like his best friend, James came from a wealthy Pureblood family. One of more questionable values than others, but Pureblood nevertheless. And when one had as much gold as the Potters did, one could get away with possessing odd ideas.

Spurned by James, Sirius had ended up having to accept the eager offer of a game from Peter, the chubby, slightly wet boy who Sirius had to admit could be a laugh when one was in the right mood for him, but who he found far less interesting than James, and much less of a challenge when it came to chess.

"Kind" and "not too dim" had been the most sympathetic words Sirius had been able to come up with when he'd composed a reply to his mother's letter asking, in a polite yet demanding tone which seemed to radiate through the ink of the letter, for details about his new friends in Gryffindor, this most unfamiliar of territories to them. At least with Peter, who was not from a family of money or much by the way of importance, Sirius had been able to justify his budding friendship to his parents by placing emphasis on his Pureblood status. Not of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, but nevertheless, pure.

With his third fellow Gryffindor however, Remus Lupin, Sirius had struggled hard to avoid having to mention him much at all in his infrequent letters home.

By far the shyest of the group, Remus was a thin, tawny-haired boy who never seemed to look like he got quite enough sleep. Which was odd, considering he was usually the first man down after lights out, retreating to the safety of the closed crimson curtains surrounding his bed.

In class he seemed bright, yet restrained; often one of the first to put up his hand to answer a question, and yet he would sometimes extend his arm only halfway before pulling it back down, clasping his hand in his lap as if he'd decided he'd rather not draw the extra attention to himself. He was polite enough to talk to, and a good laugh when he could be persuaded to join in the conversation for long enough (usually by James, who could never seem to resist bringing a lonely-looking outsider in from the cold), but he was curiously unwilling to answer any personal questions about his family or where he was from, clamming up and making excuses to leave the room when the the topic was brought up.

Sirius suspected he was probably self-conscious about only being a half-blood.

Though sympathetic of his unfortunately lacking blood status and keen to be friendly towards the boy in spite of it, Sirius wasn't quite sure he wanted his parents to know he was rooming with a half-blood just yet. His parents may not have found a good enough excuse to force his transfer to Slytherin yet, but no doubt they were on the lookout for one, and Sirius didn't intend to give them any help.

Nevertheless he was less open with his attentions towards Remus than he was with James, with no complaints from the boy himself, who was usually content to sit curled up in an armchair by the fire of an evening with his head in a book while the others played. He seemed content simply to be allowed to stay with them, never demanding further attention. His soft brown eyes would occasionally dart up from the page and he would smile slightly, content simply to be accepted by his classmates.

Sirius hadn't bothered asking him if he wanted to play chess with him. Remus rarely said yes to an offer of a game. Sirius wondered if he was no good at it or if he simply didn't know how to play. In any case, he looked far too drawn into his book on the various creatures which were known to live in the Black Lake on the castle grounds to want to put it down for the sake of chess. And so Sirius had reluctantly accepted the offer of a game from Peter.

The stout, blond-haired boy hadn't been playing chess very long, in fact he hadn't played at all before coming to Hogwarts, when James had enthusiastically taken on the task of teaching him upon realising his lack of knowledge for the game.

Sirius, however, had been playing for as long as he could remember, his father having insisted he learn, as he said the game was a valuable method of improving one's skill for strategy and cunning. Never one to needlessly indulge his young son, Orion would play ruthlessly, never once letting Sirius win out of kindness, and so Sirius learned to channel his frustrations from constantly losing and learned to play as skilfully as his father. The first time Sirius could remember receiving an approving smile from his father was the first time he'd beaten him at the game.

"Hurry up, will you, I've not got all night" Sirius huffed impatiently as he watched Peter dither over his next move.

He lay on his front by the fire, chin resting in his palm in a bored manner The boy's watery blue eyes had been narrowed in concentration for almost ten minutes now as he struggled to think of a move that wouldn't result in Sirius gleefully ordering his own pieces to smash his own into shattered fragments.

"Don't rush me, I can't think as quick as you!" said Peter in a flustered tone.

"If you think any slower we'll be here until breakfast!" Sirius barked back, scowling with impatience. The fact that he would win the game was inevitable. He wanted to hurry up and get to the part where he could declare victory, not sit here watching his opponent dither pointlessly over how best to lose.

"Oh I give up, I'm no good at this game" Peter sighed, crossing his arms and leaning back to slouch against the armchair in defeat.

"Well I guess I win by default then" Sirius said with a sarcastic smirk as he swiped the pieces clean off of the board, scattering them across the rug in annoyance. The unamused chess pieces picked themselves up, the shattered remains putting themselves back together upon realising the game had ended.

He noticed Remus's eyes dart up from behind his book for a moment at the sound of the clattering chess pieces, his gaze dropping again when he realised he'd been spotted.

"Maybe try something a bit simpler" James called from the nearby table where he had his chocolate frog card collection spread out, clearly sensing the tension threatening to build. "It's a tough game and Pete hasn't been playing as long as you, try something a bit more on his level for now"

"Like what, 'I Spy'?" Sirius scoffed with a dark chuckle to himself, oblivious to the way Peter's face fell upon hearing his joke.

"How about Exploding Snap?" James suggested loudly, spotting Peter's discomfort.

"Ooh yes, I'm good at that" Peter nodded eagerly.

"Fine, whatever" Sirius fiddled with the cuff of his robes absent-mindedly.

Having darted upstairs to retrieve his pack of cards, Peter returned to the fireside and laid out his pack on the carpet.

Peter may well have been good at Exploding Snap, but that meant nothing in face of the fact that Sirius was better. For what was supposed to be a light-hearted and fun game, Sirius sat poised on the carpet with the concentration of a sighthound, his grey eyes fixed on the cards, muscles tensed, his wand primed for tapping. It rather intimidated Peter.

Perhaps that was why he kept losing. It certainly didn't help that Sirius kept whooping triumphantly each time his cards burst into smoke with a loud crack.

"Ha! Beat you again!" Sirius shouted, punching the air as his opponent coughed in the cloud of smoke his cards left behind. "Come on, Peter, I thought you said you were good at this game?"

The raven-haired boy seemed oblivious to the effects of his triumphant jeers among his friends. He didn't seem to spot the increasingly uncomfortable look on Peter's round face, nor the way Remus's hazel eyes rolled from over the rim of his book, or how even James was shooting him mildly-annoyed looks from the table with each victory shout.

"I thought I was..." Peter murmured as he reluctantly shuffled his cards into position again, not really wanting to continue but too timid to admit outright defeat.

"Not as good as me, apparently" Sirius sang proudly, in a tone that suggested he was used to being encourage to have such opinions of himself. "Alright, I'll let you have one more go and then we'll call it a night"

Sirius positioned himself once more, readied his wand arm to strike at the first second of opportunity. He focused his mind, ready to win-

A loud cough from the armchair by the fire tore Sirius's attention away from the deck of cards at precisely the worst moment. He instinctively jerked his head round to investigate, leaving a second to spare for Peter to jump in, tap the cards with his wand and gleefully declare himself the winner.

Sirius angrily glared in Remus's direction, who was massaging his throat as innocently as possible behind his book.

"You did that on purpose!" Sirius shouted, his grey eyes alight with fury.

"Did what?" Remus replied, attempting to feign innocence, failing to mask the slight note of panic in his quiet voice.

"That cough!" Sirius snapped, jumping to his feet defensively, his hands balled into fists. "You were trying to distract me!"

"Calm down, mate, it's only a game" James got up from his spot at the table at the unwelcome sign of a fight.

"It's not only a game, he cheated!" Sirius continued to shout, unaware or uncaring of the annoyed looks he was getting from the older students trying to focus on their work, most unappreciative of being interrupted by a childish squabble over a silly card game.

"He knows Peter's too stupid to have a hope of beating me, so he distracted me so he could win - that's cheating!"

Remus, by now looking thoroughly uncomfortable with the whole situation, curled his legs tighter to his chest and stared at the floor, looking as if nothing would make him happier than for the ground to swallow him up.

"I didn't tell him to cheat for me, honest, I didn't!" Peter squeaked from the carpet, desperate for his friend not to be mad at him.

"Of course you didn't, you little lump" Sirius snapped at him. "As if you would have the brains to think to ask for help from a sneaky, cheating half-blood-"

Sirius was knocked backwards from the force of the shove James dealt him to the chest, stumbling for a moment. He had just enough time to notice the look of horror on Peter's face and the way the Remus now looked physically sick before his view was blocked entirely by James.

"What did you just call him?" James demanded, his hazel eyes aflame behind his glasses.

"Only what he is" Sirius sneered back, tossing his hair out of his eyes haughtily, half-wondering why the entire Common Room had fallen silent to turn and stare at him with shocked looks. "A cheating half-blood"

The way in which Sirius spat out his words without an ounce of shame was all the encouragement James needed to hurl himself at his dorm-mate. They landed in a tangle on the floor, rolling about, clumsily hitting and pulling fiercely at each other until they were forced apart by a pair of Seventh Years.

The two elder students each held a struggling eleven-year-old tight by the scruff of their robes, still reaching out to try and hit and kick at one another before they were both stilled by an angry shout from another older boy marching over to the fireside.

"What the hell is going on here?" boomed the voice of David Cartwright, Seventh Year Gryffindor, Muggleborn and Head Boy.

"It was him!" James shouted furiously, pointing at Sirius. "He called Remus a cheating half-blood!"

David's angry gaze swivelled accusingly across to Sirius, who was doing his best to look as casual as an eleven-year-old can while behind half-lifted off the ground by an eighteen-year-old.

"What's wrong with you?" Sirius snapped in annoyance, trying to wriggle free from the uncomfortable hold the Seventh Year had on his robes neck. "He is a half-blood and he cheated!"

James made another valiant attempt to lunge at Sirius but was easily held back by the much larger and stronger boys.

"I've had enough of this" the Head Boy snapped. "It's past time you kids should be in bed anyway. Get upstairs, all of you, and if I hear another sound out of any of you, I'm fetching McGonagall. Understand?"

"Fine" both boys muttered reluctantly as they were unceremoniously dropped by their captors.

James and Sirius stared silent daggers at each other, muscles tensed, their eyes hard with fury, as Peter scrambled to gather his cards together so they could head upstairs to bed.

Upon turning to glance at the armchair that Remus had occupied, the three boys were surprised to find it empty, it's occupant having silently fled the scene whilst all attention was focused on the two boys wrestling across the Common Room floor.

Sirius remembered the mortified look on Remus's face just before James had jumped him and felt a slight pang of guilt which he quickly squashed. Everyone was stupidly overreacting. He hadn't done anything wrong, simply called out Remus for cheating on Peter's behalf, robbing Sirius of a fair game Why was everyone making such a big deal about it?

As the three boys trudged silently up the stony staircase to their dormitory, the tension in the air thick and murky, they each separately and silently wondered where Remus had slipped away to.

Their mutual question was answered when they arrived in their small, circular bedroom to find the curtains of Remus's bed drawn tightly closed, the light casting a shadow in which one could just about make out a balled-up figure hiding under the bedclothes.

The tense atmosphere from the night's events continued well into the next day. Sirius awoke to a layer of frost masking the view from their tower window, a dirty glance from James whenever he caught his eye as they dressed, and Remus's bed already vacated and neatly made.

As they silently walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast, James quickly spotted Remus at the far end of the Gryffindor table, hunched over a bowl of porridge. He quickly marched forward to sit himself down beside the tawny-haired boy, pulling Peter by the sleeve with him, and greeting Remus cheerfully.

Clearly blanked by the rest of the group, and with James having deliberately placed Peter in the last free spot on the bench, Sirius skulked off to find another seat further down the table, his head held high, keen to show he couldn't care less whether his dorm-mates wanted him to sit with them or not.

The group's shunning of their former friend continued well into the school day. James, his former desk partner for Defence Against the Dark Arts, sat himself down firmly beside Remus instead, whilst Peter hastily set his things down at a desk already occupied by a slightly confused-looking Ravenclaw. Sirius rolled his eyes at the immaturity of his so-called friends and flopped down lazily beside a shy-looking Hufflepuff girl who looked like she wouldn't be too annoying.

At lunch, Sirius was once again very obviously shunned by the rest of the group, left to sit elsewhere, alone. The trio were very obviously led by James, who was the first to march forward and take a seat further away from Sirius, the first to turn his back when he saw him coming, whilst Peter and Remus quietly followed his lead with faces far more miserable than James's proudly defiant glare.

By late afternoon, Sirius was beginning to find the whole thing rather tiresome. Upon walking into their last lesson of the day, Charms, James had barged past Sirius and sat himself down at their usual bench furthest from the front of the class. Remus and Peter allowed themselves to be directed further along the bench before James sat himself firmly at the very end of the bench, leaving no room for Sirius.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius sat himself down in the last available spot in the classroom on a bench in the front row, annoyingly prominent for the view of Professor Flitwick atop his large pile of books at the head of the classroom.

Keen to put his friends' ridiculously over-reactive behaviour to the back of his mind, Sirius threw himself into the charm they were learning that day; the levitating charm. Focusing his willpower, he swish-and-flicked his wand and spoke the incantation firmly, smirking victoriously as his feather obediently lifted itself into the air.

"Well done, Mr Black, well done!" Flitwick squeaked. "Five points to Gryffindor"

Sirius was suddenly glad of his close proximity to the professor.

As the rest of the class frantically began to attempt to levitate their feathers, Sirius began to toy with his, testing himself to see how long he could keep his feather in the air for. He was just about to declare victory upon reaching the thirty second mark when a sharp pain suddenly hit the back of his head.

Hissing with pain and lifting his hand to the back of his head, he found a tiny balled up piece of parchment no bigger than a pea resting in his tangled mop of black hair. Twisting himself round to glare up at the back bench, he found James sat there smirking at him, twirling his wand in his fingers mischievously.

Beside him, Peter's watery blue eyes kept darting nervously towards Flitwick, whilst Remus chewed his bottom lip anxiously, staring down at the feather in front of him.

Furious that James had not only mastered the charm but had adapted it for his own gain before Sirius had thought to do so himself, the angry boy seized his opportunity for revenge when Flitwick was distracted with helping a struggling Slytherin boy, pointing his wand at the ball of parchment, quietly command it to fly and attempted to shoot it back up at James, frustration bubbling inside him when his attempt failed and the parchment dropped to the floor pathetically.

Turning away furiously, Sirius quickly felt the same stab of pain a few moments later when a second ball of parchment hit the back of his head. Rather than risk humiliating himself again, he attempted to slouch down in his seat out of aim, but was proved unsuccessful when a third and fourth piece of parchment hit him in quick succession.

His fury overwhelming him, Sirius crumpled up a sheet of parchment into a ball in his fist, whirled round and flung up his arm to hurl it angrily at James.

"Mr Black!"

Sirius's arm froze in midair, poised and ready to throw.

"Dammit" he sighed, lowering his arm.

To his surprise, however, what followed Flitwick's call to him was not the scolding he had expecting, but a mere instruction for him to gather up his things and leave with the Prefect that had come to collect him.

Eyeing the Hufflepuff Fifth Year standing in the doorway with suspicion, Sirius shoved his book, parchment and wand into his bag and slung it over his shoulder, shooting a dirty glare up at James before he left, fuming at the way the boy with the messy black hair stuck his tongue out at him mockingly as he left.

As they left the classroom and made their way down the corridor, the Prefect attempted to rest a guiding hand on the eleven year old's shoulder, and was a little started at the sharpness with which the boy jerked away from him.

Sirius quickly realised as they silently trudged through the castle that they were heading for Professor McGonagall's office - the permanently stern-faced Transfiguration professor and Gryffindor Head of House. Sirius quickly began to construct his defence argument in his head when he realised he was most likely about to be reprimanded for his fight last night. Though why he was the one being dragged out of class and not James, he had no idea. James had started it - he'd attack him first. That would be his first line of defence as soon as he got the chance to speak up.

When they finally reached their destination, the Prefect knocked on the closed door, awaited the brisk, Scottish voice permitting him to open in, and then Sirius was being gently pushed inside by the shoulder.

Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk at the far end of the long classroom, a large pile of books and a neat stack of parchment rolls on each side of her. An elegant eagle feather quill traced over the unrolled parchment she was marking.

She looked up as Sirius entered, fixing him with a hard stare for a moment.

"Ah yes, Mr Black. Do come in. Shut the door behind you, please" she said by way of greeting.

Sirius silently did as he was told, the echo of his footsteps in the tall, empty room making him feel a tad self-conscious as he approached the desk.

"Take a seat"

McGonagall gestured to the chair facing her in front of the desk, not looking up from her marking.

Sirius slung his bag down onto the floor and sat down, edging forward slightly in his seat when his feet didn't quite touch the ground.

To his puzzlement, the teacher that had had him pulled out of class to see her continued with her work, neither looking up at him nor speaking to him for several minutes. Sirius resisted the urge to fidget, tapping the toe of his shoe against the floor slightly as the awkward silence continued.

"So"

The sharply spoken word caught Sirius off-guard after the deafening silence.

"I hear there was an altercation in the Common Room last night" said the professor, looking up from her marking at last.

She folded her hands neatly on the desk and fixed Sirius with a beady, cat-like stare.

The elegant eagle feather quill continued to trace over the top of the parchment independently, occasionally lowering itself to scratch a correction into the words.

"Yes" Sirius replied, pulling himself up straighter in his seat. "But it wasn't my fault! It was James Potter! He jumped me out of nowhere! He's the one you should be punishing, not me, all I did was defend mys-"

"Mr Black!"

The sharpness of his teacher's Scottish twang silenced Sirius's rambling defence in an instant.

"I do not recall inviting you to speak" McGonagall said sternly, her sharp eyes glinting behind her spectacles.

Sirius shrunk down a little in his seat, subdued.

With his excellent marks and quick learning, Sirius rarely found himself on the wrong side of a teacher beyond a gentle request to stop chattering with his friends. But Minerva McGonagall prided herself on being both feared and respected by all of her students in equal measure, and Sirius was no exception to the rule.

"Now" she continued. "As I said, I hear there was an altercation last night between yourself, and the aforementioned Mr Potter. I have also been informed by several witnesses that the fight was started by an incident of name-calling"

The boy before her seemed a little puzzled.

"Would you care to elaborate the matter in your own words?" she prompted him.

Was this a trick question? Was he really about to get in trouble for rightly accusing someone of cheating at a game of snap?

"Well, yeah, I called Remus a cheater, but that's because he is" Sirius explained casually. "He cheated for Peter while we were playing snap and made me lose the game, on purpose"

He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice as he recalled his embarrassing defeat.

"Was that all?" McGonagall asked, in a tone that said she was clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

Sirius paused for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well I called him a half-blood as well, but that's all"

"That's all, is it?"

Sirius cocked his head to one side in confusion.

"Yes?" he answered uncertainly.

"There's nothing amiss with the way you chose to refer to Mr Lupin last night, in your opinion?"

"No..." Sirius replied, attemtping to mask the growing uncertainty caused by his teacher's unsatisfied gaze. "He did cheat, and he is a half-blood"

To his surprise, McGonagall's hands unfolded, one of the reached behind the tall pile of books to retrieve a tartan tin, which she removed the lid of and pushed towards him.

"Have a biscuit, Black"

Still not entirely sure what exactly the point of this whole meeting was, Sirius silently reached out and took a ginger newt from the tin, biting off it's head in one go, as was his habit.

Minerva studied the eleven year old boy in front of her, innocently nibbling on his biscuit, still oblivious to the exact nature of his wrongdoings.

She'd had her reservations when Sirius Black was placed in Gryffindor House, she admitted. The chattering in the staff room later that evening concluded that no one could recall a Black that had been placed anywhere other than Slytherin for hundreds of years. But nevertheless, the Hat knew best, and if the Hat decreed that Gryffindor, not Slytherin, was not the place for the latest in the long line of Blacks to grace the halls of Hogwarts, then so it would be.

Minerva wished she could have been more surprised when the Head Boy had reported last night's events to her after breakfast that morning. But alas, she'd had her fears that something like this may happen. The "Noble and Most Ancient House of Black", as they insisted on styling themselves, was not known for it's tolerance of those they deemed to be of lower blood purity than themselves.

As she made it her business to do with all of her First Years, Minerva had studied Sirius, observed both his schoolwork and his ways. She'd found him to be bright, easy to teach and with rather a talent for transfiguration, it seemed. And though she'd also seem him to be settling in well with his new Gryffindor housemates, she had also observed something of an arrogant streak, which she supposed would come naturally to one raised in the bosom of a family which thought itself better than the rest of the Wizarding world merely by birthright.

She had been worried that the less savoury aspects of being raised in a wealthy, blood-purist family would make themselves known sooner or later in young Sirius Black. Such values may be allowed to fester unchecked in certain circles, even within Hogwarts itself, but as long as Minerva McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, their presence would not be tolerated among the students under her care.

"Mr Black" she began, clearing her throat. "I wonder if you've given any thought as to whether the names you called your classmate were the reason why James Potter attempted to attack you?"

Sirius looked up at her, tilting his head questioningly again. Minerva was reminded strongly of a confused puppy, baffled by a concept he was completely unfamiliar with.

"Why would calling someone what they are be a reason to attack me?" he asked, polishing off the last of his ginger newt.

"Because to many people, the idea of using one's blood status as an insult is deemed rather an unacceptable thing to do" McGonagall explained patiently, raising her eyebrows behind her spectacles.

"But I didn't... I wasn't trying to insult him, I just called him what he is. He is a half-blood"

"And would you care to explain to me what, in your opinion, being a half-blood means?"

Sirius pondered the thought for a moment, darting out his tongue to lick away the last crumbs of his biscuit from his lips.

"Someone who doesn't have two magical parents..." he began cautiously, raking his memory for the information instilled in him by his pre-Hogwarts tuition. "Like, a wizard and a Muggle, or a witch and a Muggle, or if one of the parents is a mudbl- a Muggleborn"

Sirius's quick correction of the appropriate term for someone with non-magic parents did not go unnoticed by his Head of House. No doubt the boy was used to hearing unsuitable talk relating to matters of "blood purity", but he seemed to possess at least a seed of doubt as to whether such terms were suitable for use. A seed Minerva was only too keen to cultivate.

"Quite right, Mr Black" she said with a nod. "And tell me, if the definition of one's blood status merely relates to such a small matter as their parentage, why is it worth using to define someone as a person?"

What was she getting at? Sirius was becoming more frustrated with these questions, which felt more and more like she was trying to catch him out. The look in her sharp eyes suggested she quite understood that he'd cottoned onto her little game.

"It's just... who they are" Sirius said, struggling to think of an answer to a question he'd never considered worth pondering. "It's a way of telling different types of people apart, you know, who's magic is stronger and stuff"

"Stronger magic, you say? Do explain"

"Well, obviously a half-blood's magic isn't as strong as a pureblood's" Sirius explained. This question, at least, was easy. "I mean, they've got Muggle blood mixed in with the magical blood, so it's diluted. Not as powerful"

McGonagall didn't reply. Didn't react. Her only response was to give the tartan tin another little nudge towards her young student.

"Have another biscuit, Black"

Sirius hesitated.

"I've seen you eyeing the tin. Don't be shy, have another" she prompted.

Sirius took another ginger newt and bit off its head, grateful to have something to do other than stare at his teacher, awaiting a response.

"I wonder, did you encounter many half-bloods before you came to Hogwarts, Mr Black?" McGonagall asked, her soft Scottish tone bringing an air of casual conversation to the topic.

Sirius shook his head.

"Not really" he said through a mouthful of ginger newt.

His family rarely associated with anyone from outside the Sacred Twenty Eight pureblood families. Since the majority of them were all inter-related and had connections to many of the businesses and industries they frequented, it was rather hard to find an excuse to come across a half-blood.

Sirius remembered his mother showing him the enchanted tapestry of the family tree when he was about five years old. He remembered her explaining each of their ancestors, their achievements, their descendants. He remembered asking her about the black scorch marks obscuring certain members' faces. She had sternly told him the misgivings of each of the cast-out members of the family; a squib, a runaway, a blood traitor.

"The contamination of pure wizarding blood is nothing short of a crime, Sirius" she had told him firmly. "Only blood of the purest quality is the most powerful. You'd do well to remember that"

And he had.

So why was his Transfiguration professor looking at him like he'd said something wrong?

"And I wonder" McGonagall continued. "Whether you can tell me five names of significant half-blood witches and wizards; people who have made powerful contributions to our society"

"Well, no, obviously. Pureblood magic is stronger than half-blood magic"

"I'm a half-blood"

There was no trace of malice in her voice, no sign that told Sirius she was offended or angry with him. Nevertheless he felt a knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach that made him suddenly not want to finish his ginger newt.

"I didn't know that" he said quietly whilst staring down at his lap, simply to break the awkward silence filled only by the occasional scratching of the enchanted quill against the parchment.

"Indeed. I wonder if you are also aware that your Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, is also a half-blood?"

Sirius bit his lip silently, unwilling to reply. To reply honestly would be to admit defeat, which he hated to have to do. But to deny that he didn't know would be to lie to the scariest teacher in the school, which would be worse.

Minerva could see the walls of illusion slowly beginning to crack within the young Black's mind.

"You perhaps may be aware that, among is many achievements, Professor Dumbledore is the wizard who discovered the twelve uses for dragons' blood, a substance which so many modern healing potions now contain. I'm sure you're aware of his efforts towards combating various Dark Wizards, as well as his years teaching Transfiguration students at this very school. Under his teaching, students were achieving the highest NEWT grades on record. Myself included, I'm proud to say. Do you suppose that his being a half-blood has hindered his abilities?"

"I... guess not"

Sirius sounded rather uncertain. Minerva was sympathetic. A short lifetime filled with blood-purist education was not going to be undone in a few moments of being spoken at by a teacher.

"I have something here for you, Sirius"

Her use of his first name rather unsettled Sirius. Some teachers would refer to students by their first names, but never McGonagall; she always gave the impression of being far too formal and reserved for such familiarities.

She reached under her desk to open a drawer, pulling out a small book and sliding it across the desk to Sirius.

Sirius peered down at the book, it's red binding faded, it's corners blunted with over-use. No doubt it had undergone many years of use at the hands of past students.

He could make out the slightly-flaked gold lettering, glinting in the light.

"Of Blood and Magic - A Factual Study" by Septimus Crabbe

Sirius cocked his head to one side again. Minerva noticed this seemed to be a habit when the boy was confused.

"This was the first widely-published text on the topic of blood status" McGonagall explained. "It's considered quite an important work, though it was also rather inflammatory at the time of publication, some two hundred years ago"

Sirius was vaguely aware of the name Septimus Crabbe. His own grandmother, Irma, hailed from the Crabbe family, and Sirius could remember examining the Crabbe family tapestry on visits to the family home. He'd noted the similarities between the tapestry in his grandmother's house and the Black family tapestry at home in Grimmauld Place, including the presence of the occasional scorch mark.

He rememebred the hole in the fabric bore the name Septimus. He'd never dared to ask his stern-faced grandmother the reason behind it. Now he knew.

"I rather think this book would be worth your reading, Sirius" said Minerva, noting the curious way the boy studied the front of the book. No doubt such an item would never find it's way within a hundred feat of the Black family library. She suspected Sirius's already noticeable mischievous streak found the idea of reading such a forbidden artefact rather appealing.

"Would you like to borrow it?" she asked.

Sirius nodded eagerly, taking up the book in his hands.

"Very well" said Minerva, allowing a slight smile to grace her lips. "I trust you'll study it well. You've already proven in your short time here at Hogwarts what you can achieve when you put your mind to it. I'll let you off the usually-prescribed essay on your findings on this occasion, however"

Sirius looked up from the book and smiled back.

"Thanks" he said.

"You're welcome" Minerva replied. "However, what I would like you do to is consider what you read very carefully, and perhaps use your newfound knowledge to consider how you choose to speak to your peers regarding their blood status in future"

Sirius suddenly felt a pang of unease. He'd almost forgotten the reason he was here.

His professor must have noticed this, for there was a familiar glint in her suddenly-softer gaze that told him so.

"I'm sure your friends will be willing to put this unfortunate business behind them soon" she said gently. "Though I feel perhaps an apology to Mr Lupin may be in order"

Sirius couldn't stop himself from grimacing stubbornly. He hated apologising. It meant admitting he had been wrong. It meant admitting defeat.

"You know, it is far braver to admit when one is wrong than to cling on to one's incorrect point of view" said Minerva. "And I was under the impression you were proud to be a part of a House known for the bravery of it's members"

Years of teaching had given Minerva McGonagall the gift of knowing precisely how to channel each student's particular pressure points to guide them in the right direction. And judging by the way Sirius fidgeted with the book in his lap as he reasoned with himself, her words had clearly struck home.

"Now, I see little reason in you returning to your Charms class" McGonagall said briskly, tapping her wand lightly against the eagle feather quill, which instantly dropped gracefully from the air to land in it's inkwell. "Lessons will be finished for the day in a few minutes, and I trust you don't need any help with a simple levitation charm"

Sirius tried his best to keep a smug smirk off of his face at his teacher's comments, succeeding in masking all but a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth.

"You may as well head back to the Common Room until dinner. Perhaps make a start on your new book"

"Okay, I will" Sirius agreed with a nod, sliding off of his chair and placing the book in his bag.

"Oh, and one more thing before you go" McGonagall added as Sirius turned his back to leave.

Sirius paused, unable to keep himself from smiling as his professor gestured to the still-open tartan biscuit tin.

He gratefully took another ginger newt.

"Thanks" he said genuinely.

"You're very welcome" Minerva replied, indulging herself in a triumphant smile as Sirius Black left her classroom.

Sirius had more time to prepare his apology to Remus than he'd anticipated.

The morning after his talk with his Head of House, Remus had vanished. He'd always been an early riser, and given the current difficulties within the group, they'd expected to see him at breakfast. But he wasn't there. When James asked Professor McGonagall where he'd gone, she'd replied that they'd received an urgent owl in the night to say that his mother was ill, and he'd left for home first thing.

It was several days before Remus returned, and when he did, he looked awful. He never looked entirely well-rested, but the dark circles under his eyes were even more prominent than usual. His face was pale and drawn, and he moved with a certain stiffness about him. Sirius wondered if Remus had caught whatever it was his mother had while he'd been away.

Sirius chose his moment carefully, waiting for a moment when he could talk to Remus alone in the dormitory. When the moment arrived, he took a deep breath and crossed the room to sit beside him on his bed.

"Remus, I, um"

Sirius fiddled with the cuff of his robe as he fought to find the words to say what he needed to.

"I just wanted to say that, er, I'm sorry. You know, for the other night. For what I said"

Remus glanced sideways as him for a moment, his tired eyes lacking in much of any reaction, positive or negative.

"S'fine" he said with a shrug.

"No, it's not" Sirius said, taking a deep breath for confidence. If he was going to do this, then he was going to do it right. "It was wrong, what I said. About, you know, you being a half-blood. I mean, not wrong that you are one, because you are, but I- Oh damn"

Sirius sighed with frustration. He felt like he was just making things worse by trying to apologise.

To his surprise, Remus gave a slight laugh and smiled weakly at him.

"It's okay, I get it" he said. "You were a prat and you're sorry"

"Basically, yeah" Sirius agreed with an awkward smile.

An awkward heavy silence hung between the two boys, neither too sure what to say next.

It was Sirius who finally spoke first.

"So, I got one of the older boys to swap me some quidditch frog cards for some Honeydukes' Chocolate yesterday. D'you want some?"

Remus's tired eyes seemed to light up a little at the prospect.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He never seemed to want to unquestioningly take something offered to him first time.

"Course. As long as you promise not to tell James I swapped frog cards without checking if I had any players he needs" Sirius winked as he dove inside his trunk for the chocolate.

"Deal" said Remus with a grin.

Immediately upon seeing Remus happily chatting away with Sirius again, James ceased his campaign against him, immediately reverting back to his friendly, cheerful self. Peace between Potter and Black was restored.

Peter was just relieved no one was fighting anymore.


End file.
